Diahann Carroll: viva la diva

The clothes! The failed marriages! The love affairs! The naked ambition! The
character she played in Dynasty has nothing on 's own soap-opera life. As
she publishes her memoir, the actress tells all to Catherine Elsworth.

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Diahann Carroll: 'I was quite young when I realised my parent were operating out of fear whenever we left the black community. That made my angry'Photo: Catherine Elsworth

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Carroll and her ex-fiance, David Frost, watch themsleves on different talk shows, 1972Photo: Getty Images

'I was quite young when I realised my parents were operating out of fear whenever we left the black community. That made me angry' Diahann Carroll is, in her own words, vain, superficial and a dedicated follower of fashion who has spent her life coiffed to perfection. At 73 she still agonises over every detail of an outfit, however casual, and adheres to the mantra that you 'cannot be a legitimate nightclub performer in sensible shoes', even after a recent tumble in a pair of perilously high aubergine leather boots.

So I'm surprised, when we meet in her 17th-floor Beverly Hills flat, to see that she's sporting trousers, flat lace-ups and giant, round, black-rimmed glasses. Has the pioneering actress and singer, now into her sixth decade in the entertainment industry, finally forsworn her trademark glamour? The answer is a resounding no. Beneath those glasses her make-up is pristine, as is her hair – a big wig with blonde streaks. When it's time for the photo-shoot she disappears into her bedroom and emerges resplendent in a black and white sequinned jacket, chunky pearls and a figure-hugging floor-length black skirt, with sparkling stilettos peeping out from beneath the hem. 'You said "glamour",' she tells the photographer.

The story of Carroll's enduring career is crowded with impressive feats and firsts: the first black woman to win a Tony award for best actress; the first to have her own prime-time sitcom, for which she won a Golden Globe; one of only seven black women to be nominated for a best-actress Oscar. Cited as an inspiration by stars such as Halle Berry and Angela Bassett, she still lands roles today – she recently starred in Grey's Anatomy – and continues to sing (during the photo-shoot her manager sits in the background making arrangements for a Christmas concert).

In her new memoir, The Legs Are the Last to Go, Carroll relates the highs and lows of her career with candour, splicing stories of suffering and success alongside self-deprecating anecdotes and astute observations about the rampant ambition that powered her career, yet blighted many of her relationships. Her tangled personal life – four failed marriages, two broken engagements – could be taken straight from the plot of Dynasty, the glitzy 1980s soap in which she played Dominique Devereaux, television's 'first black bitch' and one of her best-known roles.

Born in Harlem as Carol Diann Johnson – she changed her name when she was a teenager for her first singing audition – Carroll says she was treated as a 'princess' by her hard-working, aspirant parents. Her mother took her to Broadway productions, put her through singing, piano and dance lessons and told her she could be anything she wanted to be. By the age of seven, when she appeared in a school production of Pinocchio, she had 'decided that this was the life that I wanted to lead.'

Carroll attended the High School of Music and Art, in New York (one of the academies that inspired the film Fame), and, by 15, her tall, slim figure and high cheekbones had won her modelling work for Ebony magazine. Two years later she was singing in nightclubs and, at 19, she got her first Hollywood role in the all-black film Carmen Jones, starring Dorothy Dandridge. In 1959 she starred in Porgy and Bess with Sidney Poitier and Sammy Davis Jr, during which, she says in her book, 'We were the only blacks on the Paramount lot.' Roles followed in Paris Blues, which also starred Paul Newman, and Hurry Sundown, with Michael Caine and Jane Fonda.

In 1968 Carroll was given the title role in the hugely popular sitcom Julia, playing a Vietnam widow, single mother and nurse. Carroll, who balked at the stereotypical depiction of blacks in Carmen Jones and Porgy and Bess, saw Julia as a chance to say 'something else about the black community. I was amazed at the number of people who had no idea there was a black middle class,' she says.

Throughout her memoir, and in person, Carroll comes across as a formidable character. She got the part in Dynasty when she contacted Aaron Spelling and told him she 'felt the show could not go on any further without having the first black bitch on television. And he agreed.' But her book also details some stinging examples of racism, such as when in 1957 she sang in Lake Tahoe and the orchestra conductor told her, 'These people don't want to hear a nigger sing.' Rather than ignoring his remark, she confronted him, called the police and eventually had the man removed from the show.

I ask what made her so fearless, given the behaviour of her parents who, she notes in her book, had always 'had to stoop and bow their heads when faced with racisme_SSRq. 'I was quite young when I realised my parents were operating out of fear whenever we left the black community,' Carroll says. 'And that made me angry. I didn't like the people who made my parents feel uncomfortable. I wanted them to understand that what they were doing was inappropriate and disrespectful.'

Carroll describes Barack Obama's election victory as 'one of the most exciting things that's ever happened in the world. I did not know this would happen in my lifetime. He's a phenomenon as a human being.'

While in her professional life Carroll always knew what she wanted, she is the first to admit she was at sea when it came to relationships. Her first marriage, when she was 21, was to Monte Kay, a white Jewish casting director and jazz entrepreneur with whom she had her only child, her daughter, Suzanne. Her father refused to attend the wedding, objecting to the interracial match. But the union was effectively doomed when, three years later on the set of Porgy and Bess, she clapped eyes on the 'beautiful' (and married) Sidney Poitier. Was it love at first sight? 'Oh, I think so,' Carroll recalls. 'It was very powerful… I was frightened by my feelings for Sidney.'

A 'treacherous' near decade-long affair ensued, peppered with dramatic fights and passionate reunions. Both left their spouses and became engaged, only for their relationship to end soon after.

In 1970 she met David Frost, whom she describes as 'one of the best things that ever happened to me'. They were engaged, but Carroll grew unsettled and admits that she felt Frost was too good for her – she was most comfortable when playing the 'betrayed martyr'. Frost also wanted children, she says, 'and I did not'. The break-up was tough. 'It was very messy after we parted.'

Almost immediately, she married Freddie Glusman, a Las Vegas boutique owner. They split within months, with Carroll citing his violent and jealous behaviour. What was Frost's reaction? 'He knew it was foolish. And so did I. But I wanted something to break the spell of David. The spell of David…' she says, laughing. 'David is very lovable.'

Marriage number three, to Robert DeLeon, a magazine editor 16 years her junior, was also brief. He drank heavily and spent (Carroll's money) extravagantly, before being killed in a car crash. A decade later she married Vic Damone, a singer and obsessive golfer who eventually left her for another woman after 10 years.

Why does she think she was drawn to such unsuitable men? 'I think most women in show business do attract the wrong people,' Carroll says. 'And I don't know why but most women are attracted to dangerous situations. I think that motivated me a lot more than I'd like to confess,' she adds, laughing. 'Now that I'm older I realise it's certainly not necessary to marry everyone to whom you find yourself attracted.'

Escape from emotional trials came in the form of work. Carroll relates numerous instances in her book where she felt gripped by panic that her career was over. She also says she didn't realise quite how much family took a back seat to her ambition. Her relationship with her daughter was one casualty as nannies stood in for an absent mother who, in her own words, was 'too stuck on the idea that fame and fortune were all that mattered.'

Now Carroll and her daughter are reconciled, in large part thanks to the births of her grandchildren, who she says have brought them closer. Something else that seems to have helped heal their rift was Carroll's recovering from breast cancer. She was diagnosed in 1997 and, in her 11 years in remission, has campaigned as a spokesman for the American Cancer Society.

But for Carroll – the model for one of the first black Barbie dolls and a style icon described as 'possibly the most perfect woman' by the famously acerbic America fashion critic Richard Blackwell – getting older has brought changes good and bad. 'The bad part is maintenance, maintenance, maintenance,' she says. Carroll says that the face-lift she had in her late sixties means she is relatively happy with her appearance. Will she wear shorts into her eighties, as her mother did? 'Until I look in the mirror and I don't like the way they look,' she replies.

Meanwhile, Carroll enjoys no longer having to go out and be seen constantly, and now spends time with the friends and family she says she 'lost along the way'. After all her failed relationships, does she prefer being single? 'Well, I won't say I'm not with someone,' she replies. 'But I think I'm more at peace and happy than I've ever been.'

She may lead a quieter life, but Carroll still has professional goals – she would love to work with Meryl Streep or Shirley MacLaine. 'I'm afraid of both of them on screen, that's why I want to work with them.

'You know, this is a very uncertain business. I'm not a white male with blue eyes and there was never a time when I could say, "Next year, I'm going to do three pictures." I've never had that. It's been a struggle to get every job.' Still, she seems content enough with how things have turned out. 'Well, I haven't done too badly in this life,' she says, smiling. 'It is kind of fantastic.'

'The Legs are the Last to Goe_SSRq (Amistad, £15.99), by Diahann Carroll, is available from Telegraph Bookshop (0870 428 4112; telegraph.co.uk/bookshop) at £13.99 plus £1.25 p&p